


her angel

by aglowSycophant



Series: eight adapts to the surface and gets a girlfriend along the way [5]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, No Smut, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, its mostly just sappiness though bc im a freak that fantasizes abt kinky shit like being loved, like. tiny bits for me but also in general i think, normally i hate using these tags but i made myself and like most of the server yearn so, rly tiny bits of angst in the first section?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aglowSycophant/pseuds/aglowSycophant
Summary: Today is November 10th, and Three has come to a conclusion. Somehow, she's not as surprised as she should've been.
Relationships: Agent 3/Agent 8 (Splatoon)
Series: eight adapts to the surface and gets a girlfriend along the way [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1346644
Comments: 42
Kudos: 84





	1. In which Three is now legally old

Eight has changed a lot of things about Three's life.

Before dating Eight, or meeting Eight, or thinking anything more about the number than an angel of flesh and blood, Three was miserable. She thinks that'd be the only way to describe herself, really - grumpy, and snappy, and irritable, but also dull and empty. She was the kind of person who was on a first name basis with all the people working at the city spawns. Some sort of societal failure. Some sort of corpse, alive but not living.

Before dating Eight, Three didn't care. Three didn't care about anything or anyone and most certainly not herself. She had a carpet of bandages and dirty clothes and cracker crumbs on the now clean floor. But Three bought a vacuum because of Eight. Three vacuumed up multiple cockroaches because of Eight. That in and of itself is a horrible experience, but Three did it for Eight nonetheless.

Hell, Three barely even did the laundry before meeting her. And now Three is laying beside her in a clean bed with a clean floor and freshly-washed sheets that smell like lavender and cigarettes and now Eight, too. As the sunlight streams in through the blinds, Three sees the slow rise-and-fall of her girlfriend's chest and she finds herself smiling.

Three thinks she got lucky with Eight. No, Three knows it.

Eight snores quietly. Three hopes whatever she's dreaming of is good. Three hopes she's as happy as she is right now.

As Three watches Eight, she feels a fond fullness in her chest. She ponders for a moment as to what it is, and she isn't as shocked at the conclusion as she should have been.

_Oh, I'm in love._

* * *

Her morning doesn't go much differently after that. There's a routine she's formed, but not consciously. Three made Eight breakfast once, and Eight liked it, so then Three did it again, and again, and now on mornings when Three doesn't wake up with Eight beside her, she still gets up and makes food and then never eats it.

When Eight stumbles into the kitchen, yawning with sleep in her eyes, Three looks up from the pan and can't stop herself from smiling.

"Good morning, angel," she greets.

Eight rubs her eyes and then blinks a few times groggily.

"Hi, Three," she mumbles, her voice grainy with sleep. "What're you making?"

"Eggs," Three responds. Eight walks towards her and wraps her arms around her waist, burying her face in the nape of Three's neck.

"I like eggs," Eight states, the words muffled. "I like you."

"I like you too," she says, and Eight hums softly and mumbles more words into her skin. "I'm off today, if you want to do something."

"Okay." Eight breathes in slowly, leaning onto Three further. "I had a dream we got married."

Three coughs a few times as she chokes on her spit. "I- Did you?"

"Mhm," she replies. "You were wearing a dress, and you were so pretty. I wanted to kiss you, but I woke up before I could."

"Um. You can kiss me now, if you'd like." So Eight does that, and Three briefly wonders if the eggs are burning. Eight still tastes like morning breath, which isn't pleasant, but Eight is pleasant and Three doesn't care about much beyond that.

"Do you think one day you'd want to get married?" Eight asks quietly.

"Maybe one day," Three answers slowly, "But not now."

"Mmh," Eight hums, and just kisses her again.

* * *

When they sit down to eat, the only thing Three can think of is, well... Marriage. It's a fun thing to think about, but she knows realistically she isn't ready for it. She's too young. They're both too young, and they haven't been together long enough, but Three still thinks about it.

She thinks about walking down the aisle to meet Eight and she thinks about the dress she'd wear, and if Eight would wear a dress or a suit and she thinks about the cake and dancing and the cold ring on her finger and two small words: "I do."

It's kind of a sappy thing to think about - and not even a very likely thing to happen. But Three still thinks about it, and she thinks about their honeymoon, and she thinks about waking up every morning like she did today - with Eight sleeping beside her as the sunlight streams in while the birds outside sing.

Three takes a sip of her coffee as Eight eats her eggs. Eight's staring at her right now, and Three wonders if she has something on her face.

"Is something wrong?" she asks.

"You're beautiful," Eight breathes, and she sounds so sincere Three thinks she really might believe her. She laughs, then, soft and light, and Three blushes a dark orange.

"Ah... Um, thanks," she mumbles, taking another sip of her drink. "You're, um... Really pretty, too."

Eight smiles kind of dopily. "Can I ask you to call me angel again?"

"I... Um, I could do it, yes," she responds, blinking. "Why?"

"I like it," Eight explains, leaning over the table. She rests her head in her hands and she watches Three attentively. "It makes me feel special."

"You are special," Three says, and after a small pause, she quietly adds, "Angel."

Softly, Eight giggles, and Three feels her hearts swell with... Love.

Yeah. Three loves Eight, and the more she thinks about it the better she feels.

"You said you're off today?" Eight asks with a mouthful of eggs in her mouth. Once she swallows, Eight continues, "Do you want to go out today?"

"I don't know," she replies, taking another slow sip of her drink. "I don't care much either way, really. If you want to do something, we can. What's the date? I can check what's open."

"It's Saturday. November 10th," Eight states.

"Oh," Three says aloud, "It's my birthday."

"It's your birthday?" she asks, then her eyes widen. "Three, why didn't you tell me?"

"I forgot," she responds with a shrug.

"And you never told me before either!" Eight snaps. She sighs, picking at the last few bits of eggs on her plate. "I wish you told me. I could've gotten you something."

"Sorry," Three mumbles, downing the rest of her drink. "You don't have to get me anything anyways."

"But I _want_ to, and- You know, I could have at least gotten you a card or something." She sighs. "Today I wanna go out and do stuff with you because now you're old."

"You're _older_ than me," Three states. "If I'm old, you're ancient."

“Well, I’m nineteen too,” Eight huffs. “So we’re _both_ old now.”

“You’re still older than me though.” Eight’s eyebrow twitches. “It’s the truth.”

“Then you’re just going to have to take care of me, ‘cause I’m ancient.” Teasingly, she grins at Three, who rolls her eyes in return.

“Okay, grandma. Go get dressed and maybe I’ll think about it,” Three responds flatly.

“If I’m old, you should help me,” Eight states.

Three blinks. “Help you with _what.”_

“Oh, you know,” she starts. “Changing my clothes.”

Three blinks again a few more times in what can only be described as gay shock.

“Are,” Three begins, “Are you trying to flirt with me by being an old lady?”

Eight winks at her.

Sighing, Three very much does not blush or consider the idea of undressing Eight even a little bit.

“It’s working,” Eight breathes, smirking.

“Shut up. It isn’t.” Eight gives her the look. “It’s not. Stop looking at me.”

“So you’re saying,” Eight starts, “That you wouldn’t be interested in seeing me naked at all?”

Three considers that statement really hard and responds by standing up with so much force that her chair topples over. Calmly - _calmly_ \- she grabs her mug and Eight’s empty plate, and says, “I’m going to go do the dishes now! Right now. You should, um. Go get ready. Yeah.”

At Three’s perfectly normal series of action that were not accompanied with blushing, Eight laughs. “Okay, you prude. Do you want me to wash the dishes?”

“I, uh... No. I got it. It’s cool.” Three clears her throat, watching Eight stand up. Eight’s close to leaving the room, but she puts her hand on Three’s shoulder on the way out and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Happy birthday, angel,” she purrs, and Three thinks she understands why Eight liked the nickname now.

“Yeah,” Three whispers stupidly, “You too.”

Eight laughs and leaves the room, and Three stares at the doorway dumbly.

It only takes Three five minutes to realize what she said, and she can't even bring herself to be mad. Love must just be stupid like that, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is sorter than chapters usually are but its okay bc its gay, right?


	2. In which Eight is a hot isopod near you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> borderline smut in this chapter, if that sort of stuff makes you uncomfy, skip from line "Gods, you're beautiful." to "Eight really, _really_ wants to ignore them right now..."

Sending a message to **hot isopods near you**.

 **You, 11:46 AM:** Okay so guys I'm panicking a little

 **Four, 11:46 AM:** What happened?

 **Dana, 11:46 AM:** whom tf gonna catch these hands

 **Lukas, 11:47 AM:** Why would they needing to catch them? Why are they detachable?

 **Dana, 11:47 AM:** baby boy. its an expression

 **Lukas, 11:47 AM:** It's a stupid expression.

 **Four, 11:49 AM:** She's been typing for a while...

 **Dana, 11:49 AM:** shes a novelist leave her alone

 **Lukas, 11:49 AM:** Lucille, are you well?

 **You, 11:51 AM:** So I woke up today and things were going okay, I spent the night at Three's place and everything, but we were eating breakfast and everything was going well and she's off today and I didn't want to go home yet because Pearl is too much of a butt sometimes to deal with, so I asked her what she wanted to do today and she said she didn't really care, which she always says and that makes planning dates horrifyingly inconvenient. I still wanted to do something with her because it's not like we even do a lot when we're at her place because she's really bad at Monopoly, so I decided that we were going out, and then she asked for the date and I told her the date and she went "Oh, it's my birthday."

 **You, 11:51 AM:** She FORGOT when her birthday was. She's so stupid!!!!

 **Dana, 11:51 AM:** LMFAO

 **Four, 11:51 AM:** Yeah, that sounds like her

 **You, 11:53 AM:** So naturally I'm freaking out because I'm supposed to do things with her for her birthday in a special way and then that's not happening because she never told me and then she also forgot when her birthday was, like it isn't some big thing, but it is!!!!!!

 **You, 11:54 AM:** So I don't know what to do and I need help :(

 **Four, 11:54 AM:** Well, that's a little... Awkward.

 **Dana, 11:54 AM:** lucy just have sex w her

 **Four, 11:54 AM:** On-brand, but awkward

 **Four, 11:54 AM:** DANA

 **You, 11:54 AM:** :/

 **Lukas, 11:55 AM:** Yes that would also be my advice

 **Lukas, 11:55 AM:** Just fucking her

 **You, 11:55 AM:** ://

 **Four, 11:55 AM:** Nooo Lukas not you too

 **Dana, 11:55 AM:** sbsksjrjs

 **Dana, 11:55 AM:** yea have u even boned yet anyways?

 **You, 11:56 AM:** I've been TRYING but she's too emotionally repressed to even handle the thought of me shirtless

 **Dana, 11:56 AM:** wow what a catch huh

 **Dana, 11:56 AM:** send her a tasteful unsolicited dick pic or like pussy pic or whatever u got goin down there

 **You, 11:56 AM:** She's... Seen me naked before and she almost died

 **Four, 11:56 AM:** Lukas cover your eyes

 **Lukas, 11:56 AM:** No I am invested now this is knowledge I need

 **Dana, 11:56 AM:** inkling_eating_popcorn_ferally.gif

 **You, 11:57 AM:** She turned into a squid and stayed like that for TEN MINUTES

 **Dana, 11:57 AM:** SKJEJSJE

 **You, 11:57 AM:** And my plan was to just take a bath with her and maybe kiss a little but I had to sit there covering my body with a towel and wait for her to relearn how to function!!

 **Dana, 11:57 AM:** GODDDD NO FUCKING WAY??

 **Four, 11:57 AM:** Yeah, that sounds like her.

 **Lukas, 11:57 AM:** Do you think that if she can't see you when you are defiling her she will be okay with it?

 **Dana, 11:58 AM:** DEFILING...

 **Dana** changed group chat name to **hot defiled isopods near you**.

 **You, 11:58 AM:** I mean... Maybe, but I also think she would still freak out.

From Eight's seat on the couch, she catches Three reenter the room in different, nicer clothes, and- Is that a skirt? That's a skirt. That's a light orange skirt, and... Damn, she looks good in it.

"Hey, Eight..." Three clears her throat quietly, at which Eight jolts. "My eyes are up here."

Eight laughs at the jab, feeling her face warm a bit. "I know," she says. "But I can't appreciate the view?"

"I- _What_ view?" Three snaps, blushing as well. "... Eight. Come on."

"You've never showed that much skin, like, ever!" Eight retorts. "Plus, I'm your _girlfriend,_ I should be allowed to look at least a little."

"Yeah, well- Look all you want, I'm not changing out of it," she huffs, crossing her arms.

"Good," is really the only reply Eight can think of. Standing up, she turns off her phone and sets it on the coffee table. "I'll go get dressed, and we can head out?"

"Uh... Yeah. Sure." Three rubs her arm a bit awkwardly as she stands there, and Eight squeezes Three's butt on the way out. Three lets out a cute little squeaking noise, and Eight just cackles.

"Asshole," she hears Three hiss as she shuts the bedroom door behind her, and Eight's convinced she has to be the luckiest woman alive.

* * *

“So, where do you want to go?” Eight asks, pulling on a pair of boots. They're good boots, boots that go up to her knees with a steel toe and they make the nice Clomp Clomp noise, the noise that's better than sex. Eight would ask Three for her opinion on the boots, but Three has probably never worn Clomp Clomp boots or had sex, so she wouldn't have an opinion. "There should be... Stuff open today. And I'll pay for whatever!"

"Ah, um- You don't have to," Three says hastily. "I can pay. It's fine. And, uh... You know, you can do whatever."

"It's your _birthday,_ Three. I have to do something for you, or...” Eight’s voice trails off and her lip curls up into a smirk. Slyly, she suggests, “I mean, I could, like, _do_ you.”

Three opens her mouth to say something, then realization hits, and she opens and closes her mouth a few times like a fish.

"Uh, YEAH! Orrrr, uh. Fuck. Shit. Um. I'm down for, uh. Whatever. And stuff. Like. Do what you want to, uh, do, I guess, like it's up to you really, um. Yeah. Mh."

Eight laughs and bends in to give her a kiss.

"You're a butt," she mumbles. "A really gay, stupid butt."

"Haha, well, you're, uh. Equally gay. And stupid. And hot. You're hot. I like your face," Three says with a stupid smile. It's one of the dumb smiles she gives when she's gayly overwhelmed, and Eight thinks it's adorable so she kisses her again. Stiltedly, Three laughs into it. “Yeah. Uh, do you wanna make out?”

Eight fakes a gasp. “Wow, really? You’re finally taking initiative!” Three gives her a cold glare that’s not very menacing because her face is still flushed a very deep orange. 

“... C’mon, Eight,” Three says quietly. “Don’t be an ass.”

Eight laughs quietly, leaning in.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” she murmurs, voice low.

When Eight kisses her, Three’s lips are warm and soft against her own, and she wraps her arms around her, pulling her close. Three slowly relaxes into the kiss, then gasps softly when Eight’s tongue moves against the seal of her lips. A hunger stirs in Eight’s stomach when her tongue grazes over Three’s piercings.

She wants her. She wants Three.

Her hand slides up Three’s back and under her shirt as her tongue delves into the heat of her mouth. Three lets out a small noise, and it melts into Eight’s tongue. Three’s nails curl further into Eight’s mantle as Eight sucks and nips at Three’s lower lip, and a shuddering moan leaves her when Eight licks into her mouth once more. The hunger in Eight’s gut grows into an insatiable burning and Eight kisses her over and over again until Three pulls away, panting.

“Eight,” she gasps, her face flushed and her eyes dark. “Eight, let me- Let me catch my breath, please.”

Eight thinks she needs to catch her breath as well, or that she should - her lungs are starting to hurt - but she doesn’t really think that those sorts of things matter right now. Not when Three’s right there. Not when Eight’s body is hot and blazing and _ravenous._

“Okay,” she breathes back, pressing a kiss to below Three’s lip, and then another on her jaw, and one more on her neck, and one more beneath that. Three’s skin is molten and flushed and burning, too, and Eight can feel the drumming of her hearts beneath the flesh. When the sharp edge of Eight’s beak scrapes against the skin, Three quietly gasps once more.

Feverishly, Eight forces their lips together once more, and Three softly cries out.

Between kisses, Three mutters Eight’s name, half moan and half plea.

Something in Eight snaps. She’s uncontrollable. Insatiable. Eight wants her. Eight wants to hear her name on Three’s lips again and again. She wants to kiss Three till she’s delirious and dizzy and she doesn’t want to stop. She wants to leave Three breathless and gasping. Beneath Three’s shirt, Eight’s hand twists and tugs at the piercings adorning her skin, and her breath hitches just so, her voice shaking. “Eight,” she gasps once more, and Eight covers her mouth with hers once more and their tongues tangle. 

Fuck.

Eight wants to _ruin_ her.

With a low growl, Eight slams her against the wall and Three whines pitifully. There’s absolutely nothing stopping her now, and she fumbles with the hem of Three’s skirt as-

Three loud knocks come from the door.

Eight really, _really_ wants to ignore them right now, but Three weakly shoves her away. Balancing herself against the wall, Three calls, “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” comes Four’s voice. “Sarah.”

{ _V_ _ives’helne,_ } Eight swears beneath her breath. With dark eyes, she watches Three slowly catch her breath and walk over to the door, opening it.

God, Eight wants her. Eight wants her so fucking badly, and Eight can’t have her.

“Happy birthday, Summer!” Four greets with a smile, immune to the veritable assload of sexual tension in the air. She shoves a box into Three’s hands, who accepts it clumsily.

“Ah- Um, thanks, Sarah,” she mumbles. The ends of her tentacles simmer a dark bruise-like blue, but it stays somewhat stable. Three just takes a seat on the ground as she unwraps it, and her face (and mantle) light up when she realizes what it is. “I- Oh my god, Sarah, you did _not.”_

“I did!” Four exclaims, clapping her hands together.

“What... What is it, exactly?” Eight asks, looking over at the box. It’s... Well, it’s a white box, with text on it, and a picture of a thin... Tablet, of sorts. “A... Drawing tablet?”

“It’s to help with art,” Three explains quietly. “So you can draw on computers and stuff. My old one broke a month back, though.”

“... You can draw?” Three nods. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I mean, it never came up,” she settles on. “I’m definitely gonna set this up when we get back.”

“When we... Get back?” Eight asks, cocking her head to the side. 

“You said you wanted to go out, right?” Three explains, carrying the boxed tablet with both arms. There’s a certain playful glint in her eyes that makes Eight feel feverish and wanting. “Four can come with, right? It’ll be like our first date, won’t it?”

Their... First date?

“... You mean the pizza place?” she says slowly. Three walks over to the door to her bedroom, one hand fully turning the handle.

Pushing the door open, she nods. “Yeah. Like old times, right?”

“Right. Like... Like old times,” Eight says in response. The door shuts behind Three and Eight wishes she could follow her in and have her all to herself.

“So, um... What were you guys doing today, anyways?” Four asks. “Like, where were you planning on going?”

“... Downtown, I guess?” Eight shrugs. “I don’t really know myself.”

“Mh,” hums Four. “I guess we’ll see, then.”

“Yeah,” she agrees with a small sigh, her body missing the warmth of Three’s own. “Yeah, I guess we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vives'helne - (lit: life-half) common insult in the domes, roughly translates to "bastard"


	3. In which Eight bestows the knowledge of the 8th Coming of the Sex Talk: Octopus Edition

“So, where do you actually want to go?” Four asks.

The three are currently at the Square, in an area further away from Deca. It’s still busy here - the Square always is, really - but it’s more quiet in comparison to the screaming excitement of Deca, at least. They’re just perusing the streets at this point - they got here about ten minutes ago and still haven’t settled on anything.

“Like I said, we didn’t eat that long ago,” Eight mumbles in response. Against the concrete sidewalk, Eight’s boots make a nice and cool Clomp Clomp noise, which should totally add to her sex appeal. Of which she has a lot, but now she has MORE. Yeah. Sexy. Eight is sexy. 

Yeah. Haven’t you heard?

Eight _fucks._

Anyways, Eight’s amazing sex appeal aside, she kinda wishes she wasn’t here right now! Which, not to be rude to Four, ‘cause Four is a really nice person and all, but like, what she was doing with Three was infinitely more fun than walking around aimlessly in the Square.

“... Hey, what’s that place?” she asks, pointing at... A building. The windows (if they can even be _called_ that) are pitch black and reflective, so you can’t see in it and you maybe can’t see out. The doors are also like that, and the handles are just a simple silver. There’s nothing identifiable there save for the neon sign reading, in all caps, ELF TIME! “Is it even open?”

“Oh,” Three says nonchalantly, “That’s the elf sex dungeon. Don’t worry about it.”

“The elf-” Four sighs and shakes her head. “No, it’s some thing for Squidmas-”

“Elf. Sex. Dungeon,” Three repeats sternly, giving Four a harsh glare.

“Okay. Fine. Elf sex dungeon.” 

“Elf sex dungeon,” Eight repeats under her breath, cocking her head to the side. “... What’s an elf?”

“So, um, I think originally they were acolytes of Altamaha-ha? But over time they were eventually reduced to... Short little fancy dudes with pointy ears,” Four explains.

“And they hate dentists,” Three adds.

Eight blinks. “What?”

“Yeah.” Eight looks over at Four, who merely nods. “It’s true.”

“... And what’s a sex dungeon?”

Three and Four share a look. Their mantles flash briefly, blinking hues of vibrant colors, and Eight, who does not know Squid Head Morse, clears her throat.

"... Hello?" she says quietly.

"... It's okay," Three mumbles eventually. "You don't need to know."

"Okay," Eight softly responds, and she knows in her hearts of hearts that she has to know as soon as possible. "But, um... Where do you want to go, exactly?"

Three looks over at Four and Four looks over at Three and Eight just has to sit there.

"... Eh," says Four with a shrug. Helpful!

"Wherever," Three mumbles, checking her nails. Helpful!! "It's up to you, I don't care."

"You, like, _just_ suggested we go to the pizza place," Eight snaps, crossing her arms. "And it's _your_ birthday, Three! Not mine, yours!!"

"Mh." Three keeps looking at her nails as a thin stripe of red shoots across her mantle. "I don't want pizza, though. Like I said, it's up to you."

"... What about that Jellain place that opened up down the street, then? It's supposed to be g-"

"I don't like Jellain," she says, cutting Eight off.

"... Anglerian?"

"Tatzelwurm beloved, are you trying to fucking kill me?" Three responds, words harsh but tone neutral. "I'll get a heart attack or two. Clogged arteries galore."

Four's mantle flashes a few times to get Three's attention before lighting up in a dizzying array of vibrant, blinding hues. Three responds by flashing back a few colors, and then both mantles light up in the same shade of purple. Three's mantle then begins rapidly - frantically, or, no... _Excitedly_ \- shifting colors (mostly all in the pink-to-orange range) all while Four's mantle grows greener as she starts blushing.

"OKAY," Four says eventually, apparently cutting Three off. "Alright. Uh, I really did not need to know all of that? But. Y'know. You have fun, uh. With that."

"Yes!" Three replies, grinning. "We will. Absolutely, we will."

Eight’s not sure if she _wants_ to know what just happened or if she just _wants_ to be _colorblind._ Both seem like good options right now, honestly! Maybe both. Yeah. Eight’ll have both, then.

“... Did you decide on what you wanted to eat?” Eight asks dryly, resting her hand on her hip. She bites back a quip about, _ahem,_ ‘octo pie,’ for... Well, a few reasons. A few reasons Eight doesn’t need to say in a list, because she’s not some sort of amateur, but also because Pearl already made an... ‘Octo pie’ quip, and Eight really doesn’t want to ride off the coattails of her mom’s - err, well, sister, legally, but she’s got a Big Mom Energy - success... Or the mental images that cum with that! Err, come. Come, yeah. (Eight suppresses a gag at that. Disgusting.)

“Yeah, uh- Pizza’s fine, yeah.” Three grins widely, with an almost crazed look in her eyes that’s brimming with... Pure chaos.

“You jus-”

“Yep!” she cuts her off in a _sing-song_ (Three, in a _SING-SONG._ Unbelievable!) tone, grabbing Eight’s hand with her left and Four’s in the other. “I know. People lie sometimes, Eight.”

Eight shoots Four a look. Four shoots Eight a look.

 _“Three is an idiot and a little bitch,”_ they agree, and then leave it at that.

* * *

Eight’s excited! For pizza! Eight really likes pizza. She can’t think of a food that she doesn’t like! Well. Maybe tofu, because it almost tastes like the nutrition blocks she had in the Domes, but other than that, she can’t think of a bad food! … Well. There’s also pigeon, but it’s less of a “This tastes bad!” and more of a “They’re really cute and eating them makes me feel like a bad person!”, which is more or less the same thing. Eight might prefer tofu to pigeon, actually.

But, see, you knew all that already! Just something Eight thought she should bring up, though. Just in case you forgot. Only, see, Eight’s not all that excited for pizza. Sorry, she knows lying’s _wrong and immoral_ but if her girlfriend can get away with it, she can too! She’s not even really hungry, truth be told, because she ate, like, maybe two hours ago? And she only sort of agreed to it because it was the first thing that came to mind in an admittedly, uh... Lust-addled (?) state.

... No, not lust-addled. That sounds too creepy. Too - what’s it called? Frickin’ names - too, uh... Atramentonian-cartoon-things, the horny ones? It’ll come to her eventually, yeah... But anyways, Eight wasn’t _lust-addled,_ it was more of, uh... Vague desire. No, no, it wasn’t vague, it was just... Desire, but then that _also_ sounds like some weird aspiring SeaFloorChan incel was trying to decide on a word for horny when he was spewing some purple prose to crank it to, and- You know what? Eight’s just going to admit it. Eight was horny, and that’s why she’s eating pizza.

... Hm. Yep, no, that’s a weird thing to hear out of context. Thank god these are just Eight’s thoughts, with no one else to listen in on them! Haha.

Sure would, uh, be a shame if someone was listening in on her shameful inner monologues, wouldn’t it?

Ha.

Haha.

Anyways,

“We’re here!” Three breathes lightly as they step inside Sand Dollar. “It’s been a bit since we came here, right?”

“I came here last we-”

“Didn’t ask you!” Four glares down at Three. Three smiles up at Four. “Anyways. Eight, last time you came here wasn’t recently, was it?”

“... Mh?” Eight blinks, having zoned out while thinking about... Things, and people, and actions! “Oh. Um, yeah. The last time I came was with you, yeah.”

“Oh, when you had a gay breakdown in the parking lot?” Four asks, voice sweet.

 _"Ke vives’helne vereih-”_ Eight feels her face heat up. “It wasn’t a _breakdown,_ Four!”

“It was a breakdown,” Four responds flatly, holding open the door for the two of them.

“It _wasn’t!”_

“No, Eight, it totally was,” Three mumbles as she enters the building. “It’s okay to be gay.”

“No it isn’t, Summer. Gay people aren’t real.” Three snickers a little after Four says that. Eight blinks and opens her mouth to speak, but then she remembers that her friends (with BENEFITS????????) are stupid, and their humor is stupid also. “Don’t let the media fool you.”

“Fuck,” Three hisses, almost theatrical. “You’re serious? You mean the gays _aren’t_ real??”

Four solemnly shakes her head. Three mimes sobbing. Eight makes eye contact with the waitress waiting for them all, so she lightly kicks Three’s shin with the Clomp Clomp boots to tell her to stop crying.

“Um, hi!” Eight greets the waitress. “Three, please?”

Three looks up for a second before she realizes what’s going on. She blushes slightly at her mistake, but she doesn’t say anything, so neither does Eight - she just takes hold of Three’s hand again and gives it a gentle squeeze, and the action makes Eight realize something - she’s in love.

...

... Wait.

... Oh, shit.

 _“Kekāsnei,”_ Eight swears beneath her breath.

Three looks over at her and cocks an eyebrow. _“If there’s something wrong, you can tell me,”_ she says - or her face does, at least - to which Eight shakes her head with a slight smile.

“Thank you, angel,” Eight mumbles in a hushed tone. Three’s face flushes a dark orange, and she gives Eight a smile - something Eight didn’t even know she was returning.

* * *

Lunch - if it could even be called that - went well, all things considered. At some point though, Eight had to admit that she and Three were slowly but surely getting maybe a _little_ bit handsy - not a lot, and definitely nothing illegal, but, you know, more than _nothing_ \- and _maybe_ Four eventually caught wind of the shenanigans and _maybe, possibly_ Four told them all to just fuck already for the love of god, and _maybe, possibly, potentially_ Eight confidentally told Four that they absolutely would the moment Four was gone, and _maybe, possibly, potentially, perhaps_ Three and Four looked about as mortified as Eight felt once she realized she said that out loud, but- Okay. Point is, it worked, and now they’re going home, and Eight might maybe possibly potentially perhapsially maybesially might be thrilled beyond belief, but who are you to judge??

... Oh, but wait! Wait just a moment, now - Eight remembered something important. Something relevant. Something... Something a little awkward.

The, eh... Anatomy issue. Because, that’s a thing? Eight’ll... Spare you the details - for the most part - but inkling sex was all ‘pushy-pushy meat and other things’ and octoling sex was all ‘we’re gonna cut off part of your hair, and then we need you to release some Bodily Fluids on it.’ So, well... Yeah. No, that... That was awkward, actually.

And so, Eight thought to herself, _“Fuck! How will I dig myself out of this hole?”_ And the other, equally wise Eight responded with, _“Just don’t tell her. You can blame it on Kamabo, or something,”_ but lying in that sort of intimate setting just seemed, well, _wrong._ Regardless, though, Eight settled on just telling Three, so when Four pulls in into their shared apartment complex building thing, they all step out and Eight hooks an arm around Three’s waist, giving her butt a small squeeze.

“When we get inside,” she murmurs, “We need to talk, okay?”

“... Okay,” Three breathes, nodding against Eight’s skin. “When- When we get in, we will.”

Admittedly, the next few minutes were sort of a blur - hasty goodbyes, a few thank you’s, a promise to text later, and a growing anxious pit in Eight’s stomach.

By the time they made it to Three’s apartment, Eight might have been freaking out a little. Just a tad, though.

“... So?” Three cocks her at Eight. “Did you actually need to talk about something, or..?” Her voice trails off, but her fingers toy with the hem of her skirt, almost teasing.

“Ah, well...” Eight heaves a sigh, opening the door to Three’s bedroom and taking a seat on the bed, which Three also does. “It’s... Both, almost.”

“Both,” Three repeats, voice flat.

Eight swallows hard and nods. “... Yeah. Uh, so- Okay, there’s no way for me to put this nicely: about how much do you know about Octarian reproduction?”

Three’s mantle flares up green. “What??”

“... Mh. Okay, so, uh. You want an explanation, or are you more... Hands-on?” Eight forces out, her face molten. She can barely meet Three’s eyes anymore, and she knows for a fact Three won’t meet hers anymore.

“I- Um. Well.” Three has one of her tentacles in both hands as she gently squeezes it, thinking. “... I know the stereotypical ‘sexy’ answer would be hands-on, but- Can you just, give me a rundown? ... Please?”

Eight laughs to herself. “Yeah, I- I will, uh...”

And thus, Agent 3 received the 8th Coming of the Sex Talk: Octopus Edition. And the 8th Coming of the Sex Talk: Octopus Edition actually... Didn’t really go that horribly. By the end of it, Three actually looked like she almost knew what she was getting herself into, and Eight didn’t really feel like she was being melted by acid from the inside-out, which was a bonus.

“So,” Three says quietly, a different shade of blue pulsing throughout her mantle. “What’d you say about a hands-on approach to learning, earlier?”

“Oh,” Eight responds with a smile, “I really didn’t think you’d take me up on that.”

Raucously, Three laughs, bowling Eight over onto her back, and Eight’s so happy that this is who she fell in love with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry im not dead
> 
> oktpat translations:  
> "ke vives'helne vereih" - "you're a bastard" (literally: the bastard (you) are)  
> "fa kekāsnei" - "fuck" (literally: i emphasized fuck)*
> 
> *note: the subject in "fa kekāsnei" is left out. it's a common octarian expression, meaning that the speaker is in a generally unfortunate situation, and the subject tends to generally be life itself. other common variations are "fa kāsnei," or the most common "kāsnei" (in which all objects are implied). the way that eight said it happens to be more wordy, but also emphasizes the level of fuckage she feels is currently going on


	4. In which Three feels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for past abuse (mentioned)

When Three wakes up the next morning, sunlight streams in through the blinds as she hears the quiet sounds of traffic and birdsong. A glance at her alarm clock reveals it's about a quarter to ten - she must've slept in, then.

There's a dull soreness to her body that she grows more aware of once she stretches, and the slight chill of the autumn air is refreshing as it hits her bare skin. Once she's finished stretching, her posture resumes its normal slouch.

Three looks down at the sheets tangled around her, and a slight rustling to the left of her makes her look over.

... Oh.

It's Eight.

Lazily, with half-lidded eyes, Eight stares at Three with a look filled with nothing but adoration. Three can't help but blush, and Eight laughs softly beneath her breath.

"Good morning, angel," Eight murmurs, her voice husky and laced with sleep. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," she responds, shifting where she sits. From outside, she can hear dovesong. "Did you?"

"Mhm," Eight hums with a nod. She sits up a little, the sheets rustling around her. "Mh, and last night?"

"Last..." Three bites her lip as she feels her face warm. "Oh. Um. Yeah. It... Was a night."

"In a bad way?" Eight asks, cocking her head to the side. Three catches glimpses of the dark blue hickeys dotting her neck.

"No!" she says hastily, grabbing a fistful of the sheets. "Um. I mean. It. It was nice, yeah. Did... Did you like it too?"

Eight nods with a soft hum. "But everything with you was good, right?" Three nods. "It was your first, wasn't it? I wanted to, you know... Make sure it didn't suck."

"Um..." Three looks away, down at the sheets covering her legs. "You were my first with a girl, if that counts."

"Ah, but..." Eight scoots closer, resting her head on Three's shoulder. "You, um... Only like women, right?" Three nods. "Is that... Not the sort of thing you've always known?"

"... Sort of," she settles on. "It's weird, you know? It, um..." Three exhales slowly. "I've always, like, known I like women, like... Since, um... Forever, really. And, it's not like my mom was forcing me to not be gay, 'cause she wasn't. She's always been super supportive and everything, no matter the challenges that come with me being a flaming dumpster of a lesbian." Eight snorts quietly. "But, um... My dad, he-" Eight tenses next to her. "No, no, relax. He didn't... Do anything to me." A pause, and she adds, "I swear." Eight exhales out her nose sharply. "He used to, um... Before he died, he was, um... Really... Uptight, I guess? Maybe controlling would be a better word?"

Eight blinks. "Can you, um... Elaborate?"

"Yeah, he was, um... Everything always had to be a certain way, I guess? Or else he'd yell at you. Things were... Never his fault. You couldn't do anything without him getting upset. It... You were just constantly fighting him, I guess. He’d do the same thing with my mom - he’d make us both constantly feel like shit and then blame it on us even when it was his fault - and it was... It was horrible. It was hell.” She takes a moment to take a deep breath and slowly breathes out. “So, I... I don’t know. Up until he died - so until I was fifteen, I guess - I didn't really... It was hard to feel wanted. To feel loved, you know?" She pulls her knees up to her chest. "So... I mean, once I moved to Inkopolis and stuff - about a year ago, I guess - I, um... Just started hooking up with people. 'Cause, y'know, it's simple. It's kinda easy, the whole... Act, I guess, and you feel good, and when you're laying there afterwards with your eyes closed, you can kinda trick yourself into thinking people actually care about you. Y'know, that they want you alone." Nothing's funny, but Three laughs anyways. Nothing's funny, so Eight doesn't.

"Gods, Three," Eight says eventually. "That's... That's horrible."

"Yeah," she responds, breathing out a sigh. "It makes you feel like shit after a while, since you're just spending all your free time getting fucked. But, when you haven't for... A week, even, you just feel... Kinda worthless, 'cause you're only good for one thing and you can't even do that. It sucks."

"I'm... I'm sure it does," Eight says quietly.

"... Hey, do you... You don't think of me differently after that, do you?" she asks, rubbing her arm. Eight should, though. Eight has no reason to stick around. "It's okay if you do. I get i-"

"No." Eight cuts her off. "Of course I don't. Three, I... I love you. I love you for you, including all of your quirks and all your flaws. You're special. You're you. You're..." Her voice trails off as she thinks. "Do you... Remember? Yesterday, how I had that dream?"

"The... The marriage one?" 

Three feels Eight nod against her skin. "Right. That... I still think that. I still think it'd be nice, and... Maybe this is something I'm charging into too fast. I know we haven't been together long, but-" She takes a deep breath. "I love you, Summer. Nothing's going to change that."

Three feels her mantle flare up with emotion as she looks into Eight's eyes. 

"It's true, you know," Eight murmurs, her voice soft. "I love you. And... You know, if- If you don't believe me, I'll keep telling you until you do. Until my voice is hoarse, until my lips are bleeding, I'll tell you that, since... It's true. I love you. I love you, Summer, I promise."

Eight's crying now, even if she's trying to hide it, hot, glittering tears rolling down her face, and- Oh. Oh, Three is too.

"l... Love you too, Eight," she mumbles, her voice warbling, about to shatter. "I really do."

"... Say it again," Eight demands, her voice equally low, equally broken. "Please."

"I love you," Three repeats, and each time she says it, it just feels more  _ real. _ "I... I fucking love you."

Eight laughs, maybe just to herself, but she wraps her arms around Three and pulls her close, her skin soft against Three's own. "I love you too, angel. Please, don't ever forget that."

"I won't," Three breathes, tears freely flowing. "God, Eight, I won't."

"I know," she whispers, voice tickling Three's ear, "I know you never would."

As they lay there, quiet in the late morning, Three hears the birdsong outside and counts each repetition of Eight's breath, feels each rise and every fall of her chest, Three feels a blooming warmth spread from her hearts, stretching to every last bit of her body, filling the gap the void left in her.

Three feels herself healing. Three feels catharsis. Three feels... Loved.

Love...

... Yeah, what a beautiful thing that is.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [cracks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27210235) by [TyrannosaurusRekt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrannosaurusRekt/pseuds/TyrannosaurusRekt)




End file.
